Epilogue to "Mirror"

Disclaimer:        Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. 

Buffy's POV

Part 1

I watched as Willow crawled across the floor to Tara's body and began chanting incantations over it.  Spike moved away from the couple and, once more, glanced at me. 

Still shivering and shaking in reaction to the return of my soul, I was overwhelmed with sorrow at Tara's death.  When I'd needed help, when I'd been soulless, she'd been there for me.  Now she'd died for me.  I knew that she hadn't meant to, but that only added to my guilt.  The intended sacrifice, Spike, came to me now, kneeling down and gathering me in his arms.  His hands softly rubbed circles on my back, trying to comfort me. 

God…those hands.  You'd think that when my soul returned, I wouldn't remember too much about my soulless state, that it might feel like a dream…or a nightmare.  But everything was crystal clear.  Now, as Spike's hands cupped my face, brushing away tears, memories of his hands on me at other times, raced through my mind.

His hands touching and stroking me, exploring each part of me in an effort to discover what made me gasp.  His hands coolly covering me, teasing and taunting, fingers plunging into me until I was frenzied with desire, then sending me over the brink before starting once again.  And I remembered those same hands, gripping my arms, struggling to push me off of him as I slammed him back against the tile of the bathroom floor, my bloody hand at his mouth, trying to force his demon to emerge.

In horror, I pushed him from me and scuttled back…away from him and the memories.  At first, his eyes were wide and questioning, uncertain as to what was happening, then, realization that I was rejecting him hit. His face crumpled into pain, before resignation slipped over it.

On shaky legs I stood, not watching as he, too, rose from the floor.  I made my way to where Willow hovered over Tara, spells and pleas falling from her lips between sobs. 

            "Willow…don't."

            "I can fix this.  I can bring her back.  I know I can."

With madness in her eyes, Willow leapt to her feet and raced into the store.  I looked towards Spike, but he was as unsure as I was on how to handle my friend, so we followed her.  At first, we didn't see her, but a noise from the loft alerted us to her presence.  Cautiously, I climbed up the ladder with Spike behind me, to see Willow at the shelf where Giles' forbidden books were kept.  Her hands were extended towards them, her fingertips touching the spines, and her body was literally absorbing the dark magic.

I started to go towards her, to move her away from the shelf, but with a wave of her hand, she flung me back into Spike, who caught me, though he stumbled a bit at the force with which I was knocked into him.  Regaining my balance, I shrugged out of his arms and started forward again.

            "Don't try to stop me, Buffy."

            "Let Tara go.  She's at peace now."

Willow spun, hissing at me.

            "You don't know that."

"I do.  How can you even doubt it?  Tara was kind.  She was good.  If anyone ever deserved to be in heaven, she does.  Don't pull her out of there."

            "You mean like I pulled you out?"

Her hair and eyes were filled with darkness and, as she came closer to me, anger and magic sparked around her.

"I wish I hadn't.  If I hadn't brought you back then Tara would still be alive.  You wish I hadn't, too.  For months you moped around, missing your grave so much you acted as if you wanted to crawl back into it."  

She smiled then, a smile that caused goosebumps to rise on my arms and a cold feeling of dread to creep inside of me. 

"Well, why don't I rectify my mistake?"

As bolts of energy zapped towards me, Spike grabbed me, pulling me into his arms, trying to shield me from Willow's spell.  Instead, the strands of power wrapped themselves around the two of us.  I gasped as agony shot through me, and I felt Spike spasm, as well.  We fell to the floor, still clasped together, and I clenched my eyes closed, trying to shut out the pain.  Then, all was quiet and still, and I felt a coldness against my back.  Opening my eyes, I found that I couldn't see anything, but I could smell the earth that surrounded me and sense the weight of it above me.  I was back in my grave.

I screamed.  It was every nightmare that I'd had since I'd been resurrected, become reality.  Panicking, I started to thrash, but my hands were captured and I heard Spike's voice urgently pleading with me to calm down, reassuring me that I'd be okay, that he was there.  Willow's spell had sent him to my grave, as well. 

The casket that I'd clawed a hole in during my original escape had managed to keep most of the dirt out and kept some of the air in.   I gasped in some of that stale oxygen, panting desperately, focusing on the feel of my lungs expanding, breathing.  When I felt Spike release me to move upwards, I had to fight my urge to cling to him.  After a few moments of his absence, I was frantic, but then I felt him reach down and clasp my hand.  With determination, he pulled me from my grave until I was once again in the land of the living. 

I'm not sure how long I laid on the grass near my tombstone, willing my heart to stop racing and my body to stop shaking. I struggled with a desire to scream in anger at what Willow had done to me and an equal desire to curl into a ball and let the whole world drop away. 

It was quite sometime before I even noticed that Spike was lying next to me, brushing dirt from me, stroking my face, and making soothing noises despite the occasional hitch in his voice.  With what felt like a huge effort, I turned so that I was facing him.  He began to move away, but I lifted my hands to cup his cheeks.  With great tenderness, I placed my lips upon his.  His eyes were focused on me with burning intensity when I pulled away.

            "Thank you," I said. 

He glanced at my grave as if it were an abomination. 

"Remind me to destroy this place. Shouldn't even exist.  Should've never existed.""

With my fingertips, I turned his face back towards me, once again. 

            "Tonight, you saved me…when it counted.  Twice."

He looked at me, and I knew he realized that I was referring to his insistence that I get my soul.  Again, our lips met; only, this time, they lingered, exploring for a moment before I pulled back.  I watched him reluctantly move away from me and swallow heavily. 

I pushed myself up to my feet and he did likewise. We were both covered in dirt, and I could feel clumps of it in my hair and see some in his.  And, as much as I wanted a shower, I had something more important to deal with at the moment than good hygiene. 

Willow. 

tbc